


Great Love (Pt. 1/?) - The Beginning

by ohdaito



Series: Great Love [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Not Blaine Friendly, Not Klaine Friendly, kadam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdaito/pseuds/ohdaito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You could date two people or two million people, but that one great love is unforgettable. True love stories never have endings.” A Kadam-centric Epic about Kurt’s life after the Klaine proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Love (Pt. 1/?) - The Beginning

Kurt’s life, which had once been just a simple routine, had become spontaneous and unexpected – which was all he ever wanted it to be – in just a few months. It was all because of New York City. He studied at New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, his dream school, he worked at Vogue, his dream job, and he lived in a large apartment with Rachel and Santana, his dream home. It was a life of spontaneity, of Rachel deciding to go out instead of staying in, of Isabelle complimenting his outfit, and of Kurt’s boyfriend of five months popping up at his door with a bottle of wine and a wink. Kurt could never complain.

Adam Crawford, twenty-two years to Kurt’s eighteen, was the epitome of blissful ignorance and cheery jazz. There was nothing – not even Kurt accidently knocking his favorite beanie into the subway tracks – that would get Adam down. He was secure in himself, and that security opened more than one bank account for him, yet for some idiosyncratic reason he was with Kurt. Yet again, Kurt wasn’t one to complain.

Kurt tried, at first, to resist the absolute magnetism Adam was practically exuding. It wasn’t until Kurt realized the magnet that he originally believed Adam possessed wasn’t a magnet at all, but a genuine penchant of _Kurt’s,_ that he asked Adam out. Things had progressed – and rapidly.

To every outside viewer, every single one, Kurt and Adam were just lovely – a perfect match, really, don’t you see? They’re just lovely. Why, I can see a future for them! Oh, such a lovely pair.

And they were right. To a couple of such atheism, even _they_ knew they were a match made in heaven. 

Kurt had been in only one past relationship, whereas Adam had been in many more; he did have four years on Kurt, after all. Adam was bashful about this fact – his admittedly, Adam coughed, whorish ways – and he assured Kurt daily with a kiss on the hand that Kurt was his prince, his only prince.

Kurt was once in a dedicated relationship with a boy named Blaine Anderson. Blaine was always a perfect gentleman, at least in the midst of their relationship. Blaine, in the beginning of their encounters, had been far too wrapped around his own head to even speak proper English, let alone sort out whatever feelings he may have had for Kurt.

Then, in their relationship’s diminution and eventual conclusion, Blaine had admitted to cheating on Kurt while Kurt was living far away, far away from Blaine’s measly home in Ohio in New York City. Blaine had blamed the ordeal on Kurt, and ever since, Kurt’s thoughts would occasionally be interrupted by a single line, the climax and failed resolution of their play:

 _It doesn't matter who I was with Kurt. What matters is that I was by myself._ _I needed you. I needed you around and you weren't there. And I was lonely._

From then on, Kurt and Blaine had a rather rocky relationship – but relationship wasn’t the right word. Kurt was certain there never would be a word for what they were now. They were broken up, but remained at a turbulent state of a thinning line between a complete breakdown and residual attraction.

There had been a relapse one fateful day and one fateful night. The chimes of wedding bells, the beautiful sound the two had once lusted after, had turned into a melancholy, dreary drone to their ears. The virginal, white lace that the two had once giggled at, but both secretly adored, had been torn. The light squeaks of birds the two had once called their song was now nothing more than an irritable, dirty sound.

The two.                                             

Everything around them had screamed “two”, and perhaps it was the faint, lump-in-throat realization that they were attending a wedding meant for them but delightfully wasn’t, or perhaps it was a disease of their own making, but the two had relapsed.

_The two._

Later, the two had become single digits once more. As one of them looked forward as they walked away, the other gazed at their back with tears in his eyes and his fingers clenched around firm air. It was over.

Of course it was.

When Kurt had told Adam what had transpired over his vacation, Adam had pulled him into his arms and had muttered, “I don’t own you.”

“But I cheated on you.”

“No, you did not. We aren’t together. We aren’t official. Until that day, you do as you please. Kurt, this is America. Home of the free, yes?” His accent was satire. British.

Later, Blaine’s name held no place on Kurt’s tongue. The syllables were foreign, the very letters were archaic and underserving – they were replaced with Adam, Adam, _Adam_.

And they were official.

* * *

Kurt and Adam were currently fighting for room on the small armchair they had insisted upon sharing, the heat turned low in Kurt’s apartment and the smell of cookies wafting through the air. Adam’s red grunge hat had previously fallen to the ground, and as Adam lightly pushed Kurt against the arm of the chair with a giggle, Kurt reached down the ground and placed Adam’s hat upon his own head. At this, Adam pulled Kurt back into him, curled him into his chest, stroked his hair and cooed.

Kurt giggled and shoved Adam’s chest.

“Do I look good in your clothes, Adam?”

“Oh, absolutely. You look great. Spectacular, even! Kurt, you look so good you make the boys drop to their knees the moment they see –“

Kurt hopped up from the armchair and winked. “A simple yes would have sufficed, my dear.”

“Well, that wouldn’t have been too fun,” Adam said, stretching out his muscled arms above him. “Hey, Kurt?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you, prince.”

Kurt smiled and strode his way back over to Adam, and ever-so gracefully threw himself down onto Adam’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck with a smirk. “Guess what?” he asked, and before an answer was returned, he whispered, “I love you, too, Brit Boy.”

Adam craned his neck forward and gently brushed his lips over Kurt’s, and his red beanie fell to the floor.

It was perfect.

* * *

“Okay, okay!” yelled Ren, the self-proclaimed manager of the Adam’s Apples, waving her bangled wrist in the air. “It’s time to pick the soloist of the week!”

Murmurs of excitement rose from around the small auditorium. Ren struck a pose, left hand on hip, right hand poised in the air, holding a clipboard. “This week, as per the cycle à laRen, we have Adam, our fearless leader, Kurt the Fresh-Faced Newbie, and yours truly!”

Mild applause struck the hands of the rest of the Apples.  Adam, who had been sitting next to Kurt, shot him a confused look. Kurt shrugged and returned his gaze back to Ren center stage, his fingers creeping subconsciously to tug at the hem of his shirt.

“Alas,” Ren continued, raising a distressed hand to her forehead, “due to a scheduling conflict, I am unable to partake in this week’s solo competition! If I won, well, there would be no time for me to work on that killer project for Advanced Jazz. Oh, my darlings, I am so sorry to disappoint!”

Various Apples giggled, watching as Ren pouted her red lips. Kurt stared ahead, fingers still working relentlessly against his seam. Adam shot him a concerned look.

“Now, I know Kurt was been practicing for days – days upon days, I stress! You sure are a perfectionist, my dear. Today we will see if all that practice has paid off!”

Adam turned to Kurt, watching for a moment his fingers. “You’ve been practicing?”

Kurt blinked, facing Adam. He just nodded, a sad, sort of lost look framing his face as he spoke, “Yeah, I mean… but it’s okay. I would love an opportunity to hear your voice again.” He smiled.

Adam cocked his head to the side.

“Adam was randomly selected to go first. C’mon, Crawford, get your cute tush up here!”

It only took one sidelong glance at Kurt’s resolute stare and working hands for Adam to politely shake his head and say, with a happy, charming laugh, “Actually, I was going to suggest Kurt be the soloist of the week. His voice would be absolutely divine in this piece.”

Kurt looked up, first, to the manager, and then to fix Adam with an incredulous stare. His fingers froze. His lips parted, words unable to infiltrate his confusion.

Ren smirked and gave a fake, short gasp. “Adam, our dear Adam, you forfeit? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

A watery smile formed upon Kurt’s face, cheeks flushed as he looked away from Adam’s bubbly, encouraging grin and warm hand upon his. Ren winked conspiratorially towards the Apples.

* * *

Kurt had been writing up a receipt at his desk in Vogue, eyelids drooping and mind slowly becoming numb, when Chase, a fashion editor with a soft spot for Kurt, came sauntering into Kurt’s space with a smirk. Kurt didn’t even look up. “What is it?”

Chase cracked his fingers and placed them on Kurt’s desk, over his receipt. Kurt sighed, and graced Chase with the pleasure of looking up. “What is it?” he repeated, setting his pen down.

“The front desk wants you,” Chase said, picking up the slip of paper and reviewing it with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think you did this right.”

Kurt didn’t reply. He stood up and cracked his back, fatigue really beginning to set in. He could hardly tell whether it was six o’clock or nine. He left Chase lingering at his desk as he went to the main foyer of the level.

The receptionist looked him over once, sniffing, before handing him a note. Kurt took it delicately, expecting it to just be a missed call from Rachel.

_“Lavender roses represent love at first sight. –Adam”_

A small smile pulling at his lips, Kurt stole a glance up – only for his blue eyes to meet a beautiful, vibrant array of lavender roses. The smile turned to an all-out grin, teeth exposed and eyes squinting. It was the first time someone had sent him flowers that, Kurt thought with a slight grimace, weren’t apology flowers.

Suddenly, he wasn’t the least bit tired.

* * *

“Adam?”

“Hmm?”

* * *

It all ended with a proposal.

The couple bypassers cooed and giggled over, oh, what a lovely pair, had ceased to exist at all. The very string connecting their hands together was mangled and was barely strong enough to support Kurt’s failing mind.

It all ended on a staircase. Blaine had looked up at him with big, brown eyes, and the crowd of a hundred people looked up at him with narrowed, discolored eyes. The obnoxious green of Blaine’s shirt blinded Kurt, and he couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating, and all he could think were frantic, frightened pleas for someone to help him, because he couldn’t breathe, and he was scared , and deaf and blind and mute.

* * *

“How many times do you think a person can really fall in love in their life?”

“Only once, I think. True love only happens once in a lifetime.”

“And how do you know it’s true love?”

* * *

His dad had driven him to the staircase. They had talked faintly of executions and Kurt’s dead mother.

Kurt felt betrayed. His father had looked at him, so proud, as if relieved that he had finally given his son away. Perhaps in his head he was formulating Kurt’s bride price, or whether or not Kurt would want a set of china for his wedding present, or maybe he, too, like Kurt, had gone deaf and blind and mute to the world. All that mattered was the ring held out expectantly in Blaine’s hand.

Blaine was still staring. Kurt wanted to rip the suffocating suit off of his body before he caught fire.

He was scared, and everyone was looking at him.

It all ended.

They were getting married.

* * *

“A great love is unforgettable. You’ll just know, always, that I don’t think I’ll ever love someone else as much as I love you.”


End file.
